Bleeding Blue Eyes
by Aoibhin
Summary: Consumed by his longing to kill the Hero of Time, Ganondorf finds himself haunted by the only monsters he cannot slay - terror, greed and humanity itself. Oneshot.


___Hello! This is my first fanfiction on the site and I'm so excited to finally be a part of this community! Thank you for taking time out of your day to read this oneshot and any constructive criticism is welcomed. I know it doesn't adhere entirely to canon, but I hope you like it all the same! Thank you._

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One-two-three-four. One-two-three-four.

It usually only took four hits before the practice dummy splintered. Sometimes it took five, or six. Six hits from his broad fists before it fell apart; first its head coming apart from the seams at its neck, and then the straw limbs floating sadly to the floor.

One-two-three-four. Another dummy sank to the ground, battered.

Ganondorf stopped and rubbed at his knuckles, and then headed over toward the window. He kicked the remains of the nearest dummy aside as he went. They littered the floor like a carpet. He destroyed at least a hundred of them a day. He had to keep strong, of course. Not only to keep this throne, but to maintain his reputation. He was the only male Gerudo in a hundred years – he was expected to be strong.

Ganondorf glanced out of the high-up window, observing the barren land that stretched out vastly before his castle. It looked dead; mud and rainwater slid down bald earth like blood, caking the roots of skeletal trees and drowning nests of insects, and the scarred and bare exoskeleton of the land seemed to be curling into itself unnaturally, hardening. A cold gust of wind rattled the windowpane. _Hyrule is restless today, _he thought. Rather like himself.

He had been up all night again, thinking. Of course, he was always thinking: thinking of how the Hyrulean people were reeling like disturbed fire ants, of the small revolutions they were organizing and how he might stamp them out, of the Gerudo women crouched in the shallow caverns of the far-off dunes, of what he might do next to establish himself as, well, a wielder of power. But these thoughts were not bothering him. These thoughts could be managed without emotion or an exceptional amount of energy. The thoughts that were keeping him up at night, however, could not, and they all tied back to the same name, the same face, the same fucking person.

"Guards," he said.

He heard them spring to attention.

"I told the soldiers to look for him at the gorge, correct?"

"Yes, my lord," they said in unison.

"I told them to check the alcoves next to the valley opening?"

"Yes, my lord," said one of them. "You told them."

"I told them to use the lighter bows? The quiet ones?"

"Yes, my lord."

Ganondorf drummed his fingers on his plated thigh, still gazing out of the window. He could not see the valley from this distance, but he knew the opening was directly across from his window, a glowing smudge of orange and gold in the surrounding dark vegetation.

"Then where are they?" he asked.

The guards did not answer. His drumming grew faster.

"They are my elite," he said. "I trained some of them personally. The boy has had no training. He never even learned properly how to swing a sword. He has had no training on the bow. He has no chance against them."

The guards still did not answer.

"He could not have killed them," said Ganondorf, more to himself. "Surely he could not have killed them."

After a slight pause, one guard said reassuringly, "Of course he could not have, my lord."

Ganondorf twined his hands behind his back, staring through the smog. "Perhaps they've gotten lost, or there's been a delay. Perhaps their supplies have been destroyed by wild beasts."

"Perhaps, my lord."

"Perhaps they've already captured the boy and are resting with my people in the valley."

"Yes, my lord."

Ganondorf stared a few moments longer and then whirled away from the window angrily. He could feel it; despite the spread of his dominion, he was losing, and to a child, no less. He paced the dark hall. There was nothing to be done. All orders had been sent. It was a matter of waiting, waiting, fucking waiting. Furiously he picked up the nearest chair and lobbed it one-handed; it hit the wall and clattered to the floor, one of its legs broken off.

"I _hate _the boy!" he bellowed.

His chest was heaving. He could not bear the strength of the emotions that were rearing within him – particularly when he could not exactly discern which emotions they were. Admiration? Hatred? Fury? How the hell did he feel about the boy – the boy who ruined everything, the 17-year-old boy who could look danger in the mouth without batting an eye, the boy who was so _courageous _that he bordered on being braindead?

_Link,_ he thought sneeringly. That was his name. He could not wait to address the boy with it, to have him so close that he would be able to hear the boy's breathing, quick and startled like a cornered rabbit's. His hands itched with desire, nails biting into his palms.

Never before had a human being so possessed his thoughts. It bordered on madness, the fervor with which he _wanted _the boy, the hurricane-like insanity that drove him to stare at the ceiling on sleepless nights and clench his fists so tightly that he heard bones cracking in his hands. He had gone over everything – every possible move the boy could make. It would take two days to get from Kokiri Forest to Gerudo Valley, with ample time for stops. Three at a leisurely pace, but he suspected that the boy would be moving with urgency. He calculated every stop along the way and the likelihood of the boy taking detours, for whatever reason. The boy was predictable. He was soft-hearted. He'd stop to help any stray waif who needed him. It was better that way, really – the nice ones were so much easier to lure. And he did have perfect bait, after all.

"Zelda!" he barked.

The girl lifted her head, moving as much as the shackles allowed her. Black ropes of congealed blood knotted her wrists and matted the ends of her hair. One eye was swollen shut with a yellowing bruise, yet she still managed to glare at him quite impressively.

"Would you like anything?" he asked. "Water? A bathroom break, perhaps? You didn't touch your meal, I noticed."

Zelda moved her lips soundlessly, but didn't answer him.

"If you don't eat, we're going to start force feeding you again," said Ganondorf, rubbing his eyes wearily. How exactly like a child she was. "You didn't like that, did you?" He knelt down in front of her so they were eye level, and appraised all the damage he had done. She was as limp as a rag doll, her cheeks sunken and her good eye glazed over with exhaustion. Pathetic.

"Look what you're doing to yourself," he said disapprovingly. "You're killing yourself, Zelda."

She stared at him hollowly.

"If you bore your hardships like a real princess, you wouldn't be suffering like this," said Ganondorf, tugging on one of the chains experimentally. "But as it is, you're pitiful. I can't stand the sight of you."

Zelda's hand, the one with the Triforce on it, opened and closed like a flower. She seemed to struggle with speech for a minute, finally speaking slowly, haltingly, in a voice hoarse with dehydration. "Link is coming."

Ganondorf laughed. How stupid Hylians were. Zelda was the worst of them all. "My kitten, you're absolutely right. But he'll arrive in chains, with a sword at his throat."

She shook her head slightly, almost imperceptibly, from side to side. "No," she whispered. "He'll kill you. He's stronger. I know him." Her good eye was shining with – what? Pride? Ganondorf bit back the urge to laugh.

"You may believe that if you like, but it will only make the truth sting so much more."

"He's going to kill you," said Zelda.

"The boy is merely human."

"You're human too."

"Enough," said Ganondorf easily. "I am no more human than the bokoblins I command. But I _am _curious. What does the boy have that I don't, my kitten? Can you answer that?"

"Goodness. Hope," said Zelda earnestly. "The goddesses are on his side. Nobody is on yours."

Ganondorf laughed this time, but without mirth. The conviction in her face was so overt that he was beginning to feel a little uneasy.

"That's enough talking for now," he said. "You don't want to make me angry, do you?"

Zelda's lips trembled. She pulled at her binds, reopening old scabs along her wrist where the cuffs bit into her skin. Blood trickled down her fingers.

"Zelda, this is the kind of suffering the women of the Gerudo tribe go through every day," he said seriously. "Not physically, of course – only Hylian women are weak enough to be held by chains – but emotionally, they bear the same scars." His voice grew gentle. "Under your father's rule, they were driven from the kingdom and sent into exile in the desert. That became your problem to fix when your father died."

Zelda began to cry silently.

"And when you did nothing," said Ganondorf slowly, "my people became desperate and miserable and grew to despise you and your…uselessness. Do you understand?"

"I'll do better," she said with difficulty. "Please…I'll let them back in…I'll offer compensation, _please…"_

"I'm growing tired of your promises, Princess."

Her face was white as a fishbelly. "Please…don't…"

But Ganondorf had grown tired of her pleading, too. He stood up. Zelda began to scream even before he had touched her, high and shrill enough to hurt his ears. With one quick movement, the swift impact of his fist against the soft and bruised flesh of her face, she was silent again.

He hated cowards.

Ganondorf turned to the nearest dummy and hit it in the torso, rattling it. One-two-three-four. It was in shambles. One-two-three-four-five. The next one hit the ground, its head rolling away from its torso. One-two-three-four-five-six. There was nothing left of it.

He whirled to face the guards. "Bring more practice dummies. Immediately."

They had a brief argument in whispers and the winner raced off to fetch the dummies, looking gleeful.

Ganondorf stood looking at all the limp, dismembered dummies. He felt unsatisfied somehow. He picked up one of the more intact ones, imagining it to be Link, battered and defeated.

"What would I do to you, my brave little hero?" he murmured, looking at the smiling face painted on the burlap sack of its head. "Well, first I would make you sing like a canary…"

Ganondorf imagined what it would be like. Before nightfall, the captured Link would be screaming until he burned out his own voice, and unlike Zelda, he would not do Link the favor of knocking him out.

He would take Link's face in his fingertips and stroke it – not with any sort of affection, but in a show of ownership, like he might stroke a dog he owned. He wondered if it would be soft, or if it would be as rough and scarred as his own. Blood, warm blood, would streak down the young face, sliding down his cheeks like tears, beading on his eyelashes, past clear blue eyes and a mouth constantly moving, pleading…

No,he thought, tracing the dummy's mouth. Link would not be pleading. He would be white with the effort of keeping his lips tightly sealed. He would want to die a hero. It was one of the things Ganondorf admired about him…

He imagined how Link would bleed. He imagined supple skin splitting open at his sword's hungry bite. Slowly at first. Lush skin, peeling open like a dragon-fruit rind, blood streaming and thickening and blackening. It would stain Link's tunic in rose-like blossoms, pattern the floor with fat droplets. Snapping bones, tearing flesh, beautiful blood. He would draw it out for as long as possible, cutting angry scarlet lines into Link's neck, his face, the soft insides of his arms…How the boy would moan…

Ganondorf realized that his hands were trembling. He bore his fingers into the dummy's face, into the center of its painted-on eyes.

When it was all over and done, when Link was lying limp and broken on the floor, Ganondorf would announce to the kingdom that their hero was defeated, and he would never rise again...that his _goodness, _and his goddesses, had done nothing to help him….Or maybe he would keep it a secret and announce that Link and Zelda had joined his side. Either way, he triumphed. He would kill the two of them, of course. It was too cruel to keep them alive…after all, when a dog was in pain, it was killed out of mercy. And he would rule with commitment, wisdom, and a passion such as the people of Hyrule had never known. They would be as pliable as clay in his hands. They would depend on him. They would defend him. They would die for him.

The door opened. A soldier stumbled in.

Ganondorf turned, letting the dummy fall from his grip. He recognized the soldier as being one of his elite, from the platoon he had sent to seek out Link. For a moment he merely felt irritated, but then his eyes registered the dirt and blood that coated the soldier's skin, the askew helmet and mangled armor, the exposed and glistening gashes. He took a step forward.

"My – my – my lord," gasped the soldier, leaning heavily on the guard.

"What happened?" Ganondorf demanded.

"The boy –"

Ganondorf strode forward and seized the soldier roughly, suddenly filled with disbelief and cautious fear. Could it be possible? "Tell me what happened," he said forcefully. "Omit not a single detail!"

"The – the boy –"

"Yes, yes, what about the boy?" said Ganondorf impatiently.

The soldier swayed, his face draining of all color.

"God damn it, don't you die just yet!" snarled Ganondorf, shaking him by the shoulders. "Did the boy kill off the platoon? Tell me right now! This is an order!"

"Most of us," breathed the soldier. "Tremendous strength…we couldn't…we _couldn't…_"

"The platoon's dead?"

"Yes," said the soldier, wincing. "My lord…you're hurting me…"

Ganondorf ignored him. "What happened? Where is he now? Who struck first?"

"He – he used many weapons…but the sword…I've never seen…anyone fight like that…" The soldier coughed. Blood trailed down his chin. "He disappeared…"

"Who struck first?"

"We did…"

Ganondorf swore and pushed the soldier away. "An entire platoon! Slaughtered!"

"My lord," said the soldier weakly, clutching the door frame for support. "We…we tried…we tried to capture the boy…"

"Trying isn't hard enough, you fucking idiot!" shouted Ganondorf, flecks of saliva flying from his mouth. "You damn fools, you were supposed to be the best! How could a teenager – no, a _child – _a child with no training – beat you? How? _How!" _

"He was strong –"

"Strong! Stronger than 200 full-grown bulblins?"

"My lord," the guard said timidly, "do you think he's coming here?"

"_Let him come!" _bellowed Ganondorf. "I will rip his head from his shoulders!"

"But if he could kill the entire platoon –"

The guard cut off suddenly and blanched, seeming shocked at his own audacity, but Ganondorf was breathing deeply to calm himself and didn't react, so he bravely plowed onward: "Isn't there a possibility he could overpower you?"

Ganondorf rubbed his knuckles, still focusing on his breathing. "There is a possibility. But how could he? I am so much stronger…"

"Perhaps the Princess was right," suggested the guard. "Perhaps the goddesses really _are _on his side…"

"Perhaps," said Ganondorf. He ground his teeth. Would this be what made the boy stronger – the trust of the goddesses? Was it really – what had Zelda called it – his _goodness _that kept him alive? But he was just a human –

"What will you do? My lord," the guard added hastily, looking a bit scared.

After a moment of thought, Ganondorf said, "Nothing."

He couldn't entirely hide the fact – from himself, at least – that he was extremely impressed. Link had proven himself worthy to be a wielder of a Triforce piece. Now that he could see around his crippling rage, he supposed that he rather preferred an enemy who was able to properly defend himself. Unequal fights were cowardly – though sometimes they were necessary.

"Well," Ganondorf said calmly. "This makes the game a bit more exciting, does it not?"

"My lord," wheezed the soldier. He sank down to his knees, unable to continue standing. "My lord…please…"

Ganondorf looked at him with distaste. Then he knelt down and clamped the soldier's face in his hands, almost cradling it.

"Oh, thank you," said the soldier, who did not entirely understand what was going on.

"I suppose this renders my entire army worthless," said Ganondorf. "I am the only thing that can present a challenge to Link now." His hands slipped down to either side of the soldier's neck. "What is it that makes him so strong, I wonder? Is it something mundane, like…like goodness?"

"I…I don't know, my lord…"

He stood up, pulling the soldier upright. Somehow, the soldier's shoulder ended up wedged in the crook of his arm.

"Whatever the case," Ganondorf continued, "I will triumph…"

"Of course, my lord, of c – wait, my lord…what are you…"

He calmly wrapped a hand around the soldier's head.

"And while his blood is cooling on the floor…"

"M-My lord – my lord – please –"

One hand held the shoulders in place.

"I will be presented the Triforce…"

"No – _no – _my lord…be merciful –"

Another hand had the head in a vice-like grip.

"It will descend from the heavens…"

The soldier's voice was a gurgling scream. _"My lord!"_

A quick movement, a snap like the breaking of a tree branch, and Ganondorf threw the corpse onto the ground, its head bent an unnatural angle. The guard turned immediately to flee but was too slow; Ganondorf grabbed the back of his armor and threw him bodily across the room. He hit the wall with a sickening crack and crumpled to the floor. He didn't move again.

The door opened.

"My lord, I have the new dummies – "

The other guard stopped short when he saw the two bodies. With a squeal he shoved the rack of fresh practice dummies into the room and slammed the door shut. Ganondorf could hear his footsteps clattering down the stone stairwell for a long time. Finally they faded, leaving a still and rotting silence in their wake.

"I will take the Triforce in my hands," said Ganondorf to himself, "and it will make me perfect."

He did not believe himself. An uneasiness had planted like a mustard seed somewhere in his gut.

Ganondorf punched the dummies without bothering to take them off the rack. One-two-three-four. One-two-three. One-two-three. He couldn't be stronger, but he had to be. One-two-three. The dummies exploded into straw and fabric. One-two-three. One-two-three. He was a hurricane, unstoppable. Mortal? Immortal? He didn't know; didn't _want _to know. But he knew he was going to die, knew it in the pregnant clouds and the sagging air and the rain that washed the earth in its own blood. He could feel the goddesses watching him. Hating him.

_Link is coming._ The air felt heavy. The corpses looked like dummies on the floor. _Link is coming. _Terror and hatred and rage swelled sickeningly in his chest. Ganondorf didn't want to feel. Didn't want to be any more human than he had to be. Humans were weak – they were soft, like Zelda, who lay unmoving in a bundle of dried blood and chains. They lived their lives in a cage of limitations. Humans were mortal. _Link is coming_. He wanted to vomit. He was not human. He couldn't be human. _Link is coming_. But he was. _Link is coming_. _Link is coming._ He was.

One-two-three. One-two-three. One-two. One-two. One-two.

One.


End file.
